


sea salt in the air

by jennycaakes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt, Soul-Searching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3543974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months have passed since Clarke has left. He knows that it’s a stretch, that there’s no reason for Clarke to be anywhere Bellamy could follow, but he can’t stop his hopes from getting up anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sea salt in the air

“Bellamy, you have to stop this.”

He hears Octavia’s voice from behind him but doesn’t turn around, simply continuing to pack his bag for the trade he’s going on. He’s never gone for long, a week at most, but he wants to make sure he has everything just in case it ends up being longer. For unexpected reasons. The sound of Octavia’s footsteps are loud and then he feels her hand on his back.

“We need supplies,” he murmurs, shaking her hand away.

Octavia huffs. “That’s not why you’re going.” Bellamy looks back down at his bag and starts adding more gear. “She’s been gone for six months, Bell. She isn’t coming back.” Bellamy looks back up immediately and grits his teeth. He and Octavia have never talked about Clarke. They haven’t needed to. When Bellamy originally told her that Clarke had left he went straight to their tent afterwards and didn’t come out until the next morning. Octavia didn’t need any more explanation than that. But Octavia has always been intuitive, and she knows Bellamy better than anyone. “You’re only hurting yourself.”

“She’ll be back,” he mutters. “And that isn’t why I’m going. We need to set up a trade agreement.”

It’s hard for Octavia to understand that Bellamy needs his space too. He understood that he couldn’t go with Clarke. That she needed to be on her own. But he helped her pull that switch that eliminated everyone in Mount Weather. He was the _reason_ everyone in Tondc died. Long before any of this war, it was Bellamy’s fault that the Culling happened. He has his demons, too, and getting away from everyone for a few days at a time is the best that he could manage.

Clarke trusts him to keep his eye out for everyone, the delinquents. So he does. But it can all be a heavy burden sometimes.

“She left you,” Octavia carries on. She pulls away from Bellamy, lowering herself on the edge of his bed in their tent, and crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t know why you can’t just let her go.” Bellamy’s hands fist around one of the shirts he’s putting into his bag, listening as Octavia shifts on the straw mattress. “She didn’t love you.”

Bellamy takes a deep breath and continues packing his bag. “That’s not it, Octavia.”

“That sure seems like it.”

“Well it’s not. It’s more than that.”

Octavia throws her head back in a laugh. “It’s more than love?” He glances over his shoulder to find his sister shaking her head at him. “You’re full of it, Bell.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

Bellamy finishes packing his bag and slings it over his shoulder. Does he love Clarke? He doesn’t know. He wishes that he did. He wishes he could stop feeling his cheek burning from where her lips brushed his skin. He wishes his throat didn’t feel tight whenever she’s mentioned. More than anything Bellamy wishes he didn’t dream about her coming home and waking up to no news, again and again, like his mind’s teasing him for thinking he deserves something so great.

But he trusts Clarke. More than anyone, maybe even more than Octavia. And Bellamy can’t be a leader here without her. She was the brains to everything, the planning, the long term. Not Bellamy.

He’s never told Octavia about the day he almost ran. About the day he was going to vanish from camp. _I’m a monster_. But Clarke made him stay. _I need you_. Yeah, he needs her too, but he let her go.

Whatever Bellamy has with Clarke, or _had_ with Clarke, it’s more important and more complicated than just _love_. And he’s not going to give up on that, no matter how much it makes him ache.

“I’ll be back in a week,” Bellamy tells his sister. Octavia offers a sad smile and dips her head. He crosses the room and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Don’t let Jasper blow anything up while I’m gone.”

**

He stops by Raven in the workshop before he leaves. In these past months with Clarke gone he’s been going to Raven more and more often, needing some ideas that aren’t his own and not knowing who else to talk to. Raven in no means likes to plan for long term or talk strategy, but she does bounce thoughts off of Bellamy to take back to the Council and that’s enough for him. She looks up at him from the sketching table she’s sitting at and cocks an eyebrow.

“Leaving again?” she asks. Bellamy simply nods his head. “Maybe I’ll have this stupid shower system figured out by the time you get back,” she mutters. Raven tilts the design in Bellamy’s direction and he gives it a once over, not really understanding what he’s looking at.

“I’m sure you will,” he says.

Raven sighs, sinking backwards in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. “Where to this time? West again? Or North?”

“East. Towards the ocean.” There’s a small clan out there that Bellamy’s been meaning to trade with for a while now, and he’s been dying to see the shore since he first landed on earth anyway. Now that winter has passed it’s as good a time as any. “You could come,” he offers, not exactly expecting her to agree.

Raven snorts. “Not likely, Blake.” She swings her leg up and reminds him of her brace. Wick built her a new one after Mount Weather and Raven’s much quicker on it, but it still takes a lot of energy for her to move. “Long distances aren’t my thing. And Kyle’s been sick.”

“Next time, then.”

“Maybe.” Raven watches him for a moment as he shifts his backpack on his shoulders. “What are you looking for out there, Bellamy?” He lets out a deep breath and turns away from her, unsure of how to answer her. Distance, he supposes. A clear mind. Solitude. Here at Camp Jaha there’s always something going on, and these solo trips allow him a taste of what he’s sure Clarke is getting. Absolute, unwavering _freedom_. And at least he’s still benefiting the camp somehow, at least everyone knows that he’ll be back. “I hope you find it one of these days,” Raven tells him. “Everyone gets antsy when you’re gone.”

“Not for too long,” he says back. Bellamy starts stepping backwards before nodding his head at Raven another time. “See you in a week.”

**

The moment the gates of Camp Jaha are behind him Bellamy feels like he can breathe again. He can’t help but wonder if it was as freeing for Clarke the first time she walked away or if only in time did she feel she was free. Every time makes Bellamy feel a little bit lighter.

He knows his mistakes in the past are things that he can’t change. He knows everything that he’s done wrong can’t be fixed. What’s done is done. But he can improve where he goes, and ever since he’s returned from Mount Weather he’s been trying his damned hardest to make up for his past.

Bellamy spends more time with Octavia now, talking to her about whatever she wants. Sometimes they explore together, nearby waterfalls or abandoned bunkers, getting the feel of the earth together while they talk. It’s nice to hear her thoughts, to see the person she’s grown to be, to see her smile and laugh freely as though the world is hers. Bellamy and Miller talk about more than strategy now as well. Most weekends they sit around drinking moonshine and sometimes they’ll play cards, laughter escaping Bellamy at the things his friend will say. Bellamy likes to tease Miller about the time he spends with Monty, but it’s never anything too serious. He just like the way Miller’s face turns red.

Bellamy also helps with the Council, with the guard, with watch, with literally anything they’ll let him. Anything to keep his body busy, anything to stop him from lying in his tent and staring at the roof and thinking about _her_. It’s ridiculous how often Bellamy’s thoughts stray back to Clarke. And his fear of her never returning like Octavia voiced earlier is _very real_. There’s the logical side of Bellamy’s brain that reminds him she would never leave forever, but part of him wonders _why wouldn’t she?_ Especially if she’s happier elsewhere.

His feet follow the trails that so many others have walked, he watches for signs and makes his moves quietly, listening to the ground crunching under his feet. The air is warm, the telltale signs of spring, and everything makes him feel light. His journey is quick, especially when he only has to worry about himself. Bellamy marvels at the beauty of flowers blooming on trees, of color returning to the land, and thinks again of Clarke and how she might like to capture it on paper.

Just as his thoughts are on her again he catches a flash of yellow. Bellamy turns his head and feels his lips part and his heart race. He stares for a moment in the distance before realizing the sun is filtering through the branches to make everything seem golden. Clarke would like that, he thinks.

**

Bellamy reaches the ocean the next day and tries to swallow his disappointment at the fact that Clarke isn’t here. He knows that it’s a stretch, that there’s no reason for Clarke to be anywhere Bellamy could follow, but he can’t stop his hopes from getting up anyway.

They’ve heard of her, of course. _Clarke of the Sky People. She fell from the stars. Singlehandedly destroyed the Mountain Men._ Bellamy lets them talk, keeping his mouth shut and letting her get the praise. It isn’t a praise she would like, in fact it would haunt her to hear others speak so naturally about the death of hundreds, but they see Clarke as a hero and so does Bellamy. He hopes maybe someday Clarke will see herself as one, too. Maybe then, she’ll come home.

One of their leaders approaches him that evening as the sun is setting. “Would you like to see the ocean, Bellamy?” He nods eagerly, and the man escorts him down a small windy pathway to the beach.

The man tells him it would be best to take his shoes off so Bellamy does so and smiles when he feels the sand warmed by the sun under his toes. Bellamy follows the man out to the waves and his breath catches in his throat when they lap at his feet, cold and crisp, a reminder that the world is not yet in full bloom. His eyes drop to the beach and Bellamy finds scattered shells and sea glass, greens and purples, wonderful colors that scatter across the shore.

“Would you like a moment?” the man asks, and only then does Bellamy blink and realize his eyes are wet. He nods his head once, twice, and the man leaves him there.

Bellamy takes in a deep breath of the salty air and feels his eyes burn. He swats at them with the back of his hand and steps backwards, out of the water, before lowering himself to sit. And then it’s almost impossible for him to breathe. Suddenly he’s heaving for air, frantic breaths trying to get some sort of oxygen into his lungs. And his head is throbbing, and his chest feels tight, and he squeezes his eyes together almost painfully to get it all to stop.

 _May we meet again_ , he thinks. _May we meet again_.


End file.
